


Take It Slower Than A Pill: Clint Oneshot

by orphan_account



Series: Pharm Has Great Prompts. [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Avengers Tower, BAMF Clint Barton, Bad Days, Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, F/M, Gen, M/M, One Shot, Post-Avengers (2012), Reader-Insert, Short One Shot, You Have Feels Too, learning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2059086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So basically you're having a rough day, so Clint teaches you how to shoot a bow. Oneshot. Requests Open.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take It Slower Than A Pill: Clint Oneshot

**Author's Note:**

> So yet another prompt from Pharm. I really like writing her prompts, but I want some more from the rest of you! Send me a comment with a prompt and I'll do my best to get it in as soon as I can.

"You should train with Barton, I think he'd be more your speed" Natasha insists after she's knocked you around a few blocks in hand to hand. It's never really been your forte to begin with, but each time it was more exhausting, and Romanov is relentless. Somehow she's barely broken a sweat, yet you look like you've gone swimming completely clothed. You nod at her, your breath catching in your throat, and she smiles and places her hand on your shoulder.

"Didn't seem like you were taking me head on, today. Catch a shower and check with Clint, I'm sure he wouldn't mind the company" she assures, leaving you to pick yourself up and prepare for another possibility of getting your ass kicked. 

Sighing, you stand and head for the showers, sagging your head in defeat.

\---

After running a towel through your hair and sliding on a t-shirt and sweatpants, your typical work out clothes, you start on your path to the training rooms.

"Where's Clint?" you ask as you pass by Steve. 

"He's down in the bottom training room, hey are you feeling okay? You look a little...Well, winded" he asks, the worry standing out from his features like a whole new person itself.

"If you're not a super solider and you get your ass kicked into next week by a trained assassin, you tend to get tired" you say with an edge to your voice. Rogers flinched away and started to walk down the hallway.

"I'm sorry, Rogers" you manage quietly, but he doesn't seem like he heard you. So you swallow your attitude and continue down the hall. 

Stark Towers is huge, it's surprising to you that Tony wasn't lonely in such a large place before everyone joined up here. Plenty of room, of course, plus Tony didn't mind. In fact you caught him joking around with the others, and once in a blue moon you'd group together as a team and watch movies in the living room. You could think of worse places to call home after risking your life for most of mankind.

Despite your new 'family of freaks', which Tony insisted on calling the team (of course, all in good tone), you couldn't help but feel alone. It had been a very long time since you had really had much of a 'family'. So, the term didn't bother you in the slightest. 

Not even realizing until you looked up that you had nearly passed your destination, you hear his voice.

"Romanov too hard on you today?" he asks from the door frame, leaning against it casually. You have no idea how he could tell, but you nod, and Clint nods back.

"Figured" he assures, motioning you inside the room, you go inside and sit on a bench for a moment. You're silent, despite your low sigh building deep inside your throat. You don't know if it's just today, or this week, possibly the situation, but you're biting back tears you didn't know that you were capable of producing. Placing your elbows on your knees, your head in your hands, steadying yourself. Feeling the bench shift beside you, you control yourself and glance up from your hands. Clint is glancing at you, forcing a smile, and places an arm over your shoulders.

"I remember you wanted me to teach you how to shoot a bow. If you give all you've got into this work out, I'll show you some basic technique" he says, and you smile. Pulling yourself together on some thin string, breathing out, you stand.

"Let's get started, then."

\---

Heavily breathing, you sit back on the bench. Time had passed by so fast sometimes, you had no idea if it had been minutes or hours, either way you had given it your all. Not just for the opportunity to be trained, but for Clint. You owed him that much.

Somehow, you had winded at least one trained assassin today, and you were proud of that as he breathed heavily.

"I think that's the best training session I've had with you" he says, seeming impressed. 

"I think that's the best training session I've ever had in my life" you respond, earning a low chuckle from him as he unwrapped the binding cloth from around his knuckles.

"So did you work your ass for the training, or did you just vent your anger from your bad session with Nat on me?" he asks, you simply shrug so you don't give him the satisfaction of knowing you did it for him.

"Either way, are you interested?"

"I'd say so" you say, trying not to sound too excited, despite the feeling of sleep deprivation taking you over.

"Follow me, then" Clint says, leading you toward the back of the room, where the weapons are kept, taking out a light weight bow along with his own. Holding out your bow to you, he starts to set up the targets. You take it, watching him, and definitely not his muscles working under his skin. I mean, who would do that? Not you. 

First he just shows you the best way to hold it for distance, lethal reasons, and speed. The first two are easy to take down, but speed just is another one of your weaknesses, especially considering you think the first two were beginner's luck. Clint keeps trying to explain it new ways, demonstrating on his own bow a few times, hitting at least the inner ring of the target every time. It's frustrating for both of you, and you sigh out.

"It just doesn't make sense, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, maybe this will help" he says, stepping behind you and giving you plenty of time to back away from him in case you're uncomfortable, before letting his hands grip your arms. His chest is pressed against your back, and you are anything but uncomfortable. Not even hearing his words anymore, you just follow the instructions his hands are giving as he squeezes different parts of your arms to show where they should be. He places your hands correctly, all while talking jibberish, at least that's what it sounds like at this point. Stepping back, he waits for you to take what he just said into action.

When his chest and arms and well, everything, isn't such a distraction, it's like time starts again. You're not sure when it stopped, but is definitely going now. So you keep your hands where he left them, and you pull back. Everything is silent in the moment right before you let go, the feeling you get right before you jump into the pool despite knowing how cold it is, that's the feeling you get at least. It's expected, but it's a new feeling every time. So, you let go. Between the time you blink, and once you open your eyes, the arrow has left the bow. You don't think you even blink a second time before you hear it hit the wood target, and it's breathtaking. 

Slowly, you open your eyes, and you see it's landed straight into the bullseye.


End file.
